A/N: Warning: this chapter is random. Like, more random than my usual self.

Basic Summary:

After Christine leaves with Raoul, Erik is presented with a proposition by a woman who calls herself the angel Ariel (Uriel in some places) - she'll give him another chance to try win Christine...but for a price.

Chapter 1 - Another Chance

He watched the boat leave, tears running unheeded down his mangled face. Only after it was long out of sight did he turn away from the lake, falling to his knees.

"You alone could make my song take flight…" he whispered, in a bittersweet twist on the words he had sung the night she had unmasked him.

"It's over now, the music of the night!"

"Is the melodrama over yet?"

He stiffened at the unfamiliar voice, eyes widening in shock.

"I mean, I don't have anything against melodrama – it's an important part of life in general, but honestly…"

Lifting his head, his gaze fell upon a stranger – a woman – in an ankle-length black dress pacing with a black (umbrella!?) in hand. She looked down at him, and her pale face lit up in a smile of delight.

"Oh, splendid, you're awake!" A frown appeared suddenly on the stranger's unlined brow. "Well, not really awake, you were awake before, but in terms of paying attention to me, you weren't awake – which means I should have just proclaimed you to be paying attention to me, but then that would be so undramatic…!" She trailed off into incoherency, and he took the initiative.

"Who the hell are you?"

She pursed her lips, and glared at him.

"Excusez-moi, have you ever heard of civility?"

He frowned at the foreign-sounding word – English, it sounded.

"No?"

"Oh." She was momentarily deflated, but shrugged her shoulders in a clear dismissal of the issue.

"Anyway, what were we discussing…? You really mustn't distract me in such a manner, Erik…"

His face whitened.

"So…what were we talking about…I commented on melodrama, and then something happened…I know something happened, I merely am unable to recall exactly what happened…"

"You know my name…" he interrupted, fists clenched, and she stopped speaking, looking at him in surprise.

"Of course I do, I'm me, after all!"

Erik gritted his teeth, annoyance and confused anger coursing through his veins.

"Who…are…you…and…what…are…you…doing…in…my…home!?!" His words, escalating in volume, ended in a hoarse shout. A frown of confusion crossed her features.

"I actually can't remember what I'm meant to be doing here…oh," she suddenly exclaimed, regarding the dim cavern in mild interest, "so this is where you live? I must say, it's not very welcoming…ever considered renovating?"

His movement was faster than ever, driven by an insane anger. In an instant he was in front of her, his hand outstretched – ready to wrap his fingers around her pale, slender throat and throttle the life out of the infuriating intruder…

His hand grasped empty air.

"How unsocial of you," commented the woman from behind him, and Erik whirled, eyes wide in astonishment.

"You aren't human," he realised, and she smiled.

"Correct."

"Then…"

"Then…?" she prompted, the amusement suddenly – inexplicably – draining from her expression. Stooping down, she sat gracefully, the umbrella placed delicately at her side.

"I suppose you could call me…an angel."

He frowned.

"There are female angels?" he asked sceptically, and she nodded.

"I know – shocking, isn't it? The idea of a female in a position of some power…mind-boggling, really…"

Seeing his doubting expression, she added, "I'm not asking you to believe in me, Erik – I'm just asking you to understand that I exist."

"Why should I believe you?" he asked, and she laughed.

"Fair enough – very well…" She stood, shaking open the umbrella.

"Something simple, but impressive…" A ball of what seemed to be fire appeared on the umbrella's sharp point.

"You don't mind if I blow a hole in this travesty of a home, do you?" Without waiting for a response, she pointed the umbrella at the organ.

"No!" he shouted, starting at the female.

Too late.

When the smoke cleared, he gazed with horror on the ruins of the organ. Body rigid with barely-controlled anger, he rounded on the woman.

"How dare-" the sentence was left unfinished, as Erik's emerald eyes witnessed with amazement the shattered organ slowly being rebuilt by invisible hands.

"Satisfied?"

He nodded, watching the moving pieces in fascination for a while, before fixing his gaze upon her once more.

"Which angel are you?"

"Guess." Her voice held amusement. He glared at her for a while, before realising she was not going to give in – and something in her eye hinted at what might happen if he attempted to attack her again.

He exhaled in annoyance.

"The Angel of Music?" he asked – if there was such a being, that one would most likely be one of the few not averse to aiding him.

"Isfrael? Most certainly not!" she laughed. "Nor would I want to be him – he's always talking about cadences, and chords, and other boring things – oh, and don't glare at me like that," she added as she saw his expression, "I justify my words with the fact that I have almost as much musical talent as a peanut. Almost."

One thing he had noticed with this woman was that he could never determine what small part of her speech was actually sane.

"Keep guessing," she said, prompting a weary sigh from him.

"The Angel of Death?"

She shook her head.

"I don't like Azrael – too morbid for my tastes. I mean, all he talks about is death, work, and…death. And he's overly fond of black."

Erik was too stunned by the "angel's" words to comment on her outfit (a black dress, black shoes, black umbrella, black necklace. And black hair-ribbon.)

Look," it was her turn to sigh, "Just call me…Ariel."

Ariel…

The spirit of retribution…or angel of healing.

"Why are you here?" he warily asked again, maintaining a safe distance between himself and the angel.

She didn't answer.

"Why are you here?"

"Use my name," she advised, sitting back down and examining with apparent interest the handle of her umbrella.

"Why are you here…Ariel?" he grated, and, seemingly satisfied, she replied.

"To…offer…you something."

He tilted his head to one side questioningly.

"Offer?"

There was silence for a long moment, but just before he was about to reiterate his question, she spoke.

"How would you like to do it all again?"

What?

"Oh, for my sake, don't look so stupidly confused," Ariel said impatiently. "Let me repeat that. How would you like to start everything over again – to meet Christine again, to fall in love again – and this time, to actually do it properly!"

He sank to his knees, staring unseeingly ahead.

"You mean…"

"…That you would have another chance, yes."

Turning his head, Erik looked straight into the maybe-angel's hazel orbs.

"Why?" he asked bluntly, and Ariel shrugged.

"I've – the angels, really, have held an interest in your…case…for a while now," she said vaguely.

"Oh, but I do need to warn you," She added, breaking into his thoughts, "This will not come cheap. No, not at all…"

He raised an eyebrow as he walked towards his drawer of masks. He felt that he needed the security and peace of mind that wearing them offered – especially if he was to remain civil around this girl.

"Angels have need of money?" Erik asked contemptuously, fastening the mask carefully. Turning back to where she was seated, he noticed her rolling her eyes.

"Angels have as much need of money as trees do," she informed him dismissively. "No, the price I'll be demanding from you, Monsieur Erik…"

She stopped speaking for a moment.

"The price, Erik…is your deformity."

Erik stared at her, speechless, green eyes wide in disbelieving wonder.

One hand went up to his face, hesitantly, the backs of his fingers running along the smooth porcelain of the white mask.

"My…deformity?" he asked hesitantly. "This face, this…thing…is the price?

She nodded.

"And of course, this time you would have to win Christine – or there would be another price to pay, but yes – your face is the price I'm demanding."

She did not smile – not even when he started to laugh, confused but joyful.

Exhaling, Ariel pushed herself to her feet.

"Why on earth are you so happy?" she asked curiously, and he stared at her in shock.

"Is that a joke?"

"Of course not." She rolled her eyes. "My jokes aren't quite that bad."

Her eyes captured his, searching.

"Hmm…I don't believe you quite understand the connotations of the price…"

"Connotations?" he asked in confusion. "This face has been the bane of my life, Mademoiselle; it shaped my existence as a monster. If it had not existed…"

"You just hit the nail on the head," Ariel interrupted. "If it had not existed. There would have been no masquerading as the Angel of Music and causing Isfrael to sulk. Most likely, there would have been no Phantom of the Opera."

The angel sighed at his puzzled expression, realising he still didn't understand.

"What first drew you to Christine, Erik? What caught your attention; set her apart from the other girls? What was it?"

The dawning comprehension was followed almost instantaneously by a look of absolute horror and anguish. Ariel nodded grimly.

"If you do it all again – if you live again, you might never hear Christine sing. If you never hear her sing, you'll never fall in love with her. If you never fall in love with her, you'll lose – obviously. And if you lose..."

"Why do you care?" he interrupted, but she merely smiled.

"Today, you had your heart broken. If you lose, you'll have your heart – and soul – and probably body as well, time has this odd way of evening things out – you'll have them shattered."

Crossing her legs, she gazed up at him, directly into his emerald orbs.

"So, Erik, do you accept?"

He didn't reply for a moment, sifting through the rush of knowledge she had imparted to him.

"So…" he said slowly, "you are asking me to risk complete destruction on the fact that I may meet her again, and may fall in love with her-"

"You will form at least some sort of attachment with her as soon as you hear her sing," the angel clarified. "It's complicated, but it will happen."

"Very well," he accepted, "I may meet her again, but she could easily not fall in love with me – yes?"

Ariel shook her head.

"She loves you even now, you know," the woman said gently, raking her fingers absent-mindedly through her dark hair. He frowned.

"Then couldn't I…?"

"No, you couldn't," she cut him off firmly. "Today was the day of Christine Daaé's decision – there's no way she could ever change it. You have no chance in this reality anymore."

He bit his lip.

"My point is," she continued, "that Christine will most probably love you – but to win the game, she has to choose you."

"Most probably?" he asked anxiously, and Ariel rolled her eyes.

"If, as soon as you laid eyes on her, you dragged her off to a church to marry, she probably wouldn't be feeling any sort of affectionate feeling for you, would she?"

"Oh," she added as he considered her words, "one more thing. Because you won't have any memory of who you are - obviously - the only thing stopping you from leaving the country and never meeting her, or walking away even after meeting her, will be what you could call a compulsion. If you resist that compulsion, you lose. And you'll live every day with a feeling of regret that will haunt you from the minute you wake till the minute the overdose of alcohol that you would have drunk to rid yourself of the feeling would knock you into unconsciousness."

She stopped for a moment to catch her breath.

"So," Ariel asked once more, "do you accept?"

He felt like laughing.

He'd just been presented with a path that was bad - and one that was worse.

But sometimes...the hardest, least desirable road...is the one which is right.

If that fop of a Vicomte wins again, Erik thought grimly, I really will strangle him...!

A/N: Clarification of the random references/possibly unclear things stated:

Isfrael: One of the 4 Islamic Arkangels, associated with Raphael.

Azrael: The Islamic Arkangel of Death.

Ariel: Closely associated with Uriel

When Erik doesn't understand Ariel's "civility", its because she says the word in English - while Erik has learnt English, he doesnt't know a large amount.

So, how was it?? Too random? A bad idea?

Please review - I need to know whether I should continue!!

Thanks for reading,

DarkSp'rit